A Meditation on Memory

“…lost in my memories; they’re all that’s left me.” That phrase from Old Friends by Simon and Garfunkle  came to mind when I visited my mother in the nursing home. She was semi-demented from  her strokes and lived in two worlds, Past and Present. I feared losing her, and now, I sometimes worry I will lose my own capabilities. Sometimes I am frightened that I’ll eventually get lost in memories like Mama did  during her last years.

I joke now about my “senior moments.” I want my memories and need them now. As all the older generation in Paul’s and my lives passed on, they took parts of us with them: Only they knew us when. They took their stories too. I want to preserve them and am grateful that  they cherished the traditions of their heritage.

While I was a young person wanting to belong to the mainstream culture, I pushed away from the embarrassment of being different. But now I want to preserve the precious time of childhood  made so happy for me by my parents and grandparents. I want to hold the precious moments and give them to my sons. I want to savor memories of the places I’ve journeyed, the people I’ve known, the beauty I’ve experienced, the loved ones I miss.

I miss my own youth, my time of meeting Paul, growing in love with him, the wonder of becoming a mother and delighting in the sheer joy of raising Eric and Geoff. By writing the experiences of my ancestors’ lives and my own as stories to keep, I can recapture and share them.

All the stories I tell will be filtered by me via the previously filtered stories, but they will be their own truths.

copyright 2013